Detour #285: Britain’s Emptiest A-Road, Bute, Scotland
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Simon Heptinstall enjoys the most tranquil of Scottish road trips on the Isle of Bute.
I drive slowly off the ferry amid a noisy bustle of lorries and vans bringing supplies and the smart cars of wealthy locals returning from mainland shopping trips.
The traffic trundles ashore on to Rothesay Esplanade, between the ornamental Victorian gardens and the miniature putting green. It feels like a normal busy town. Vehicles gradually disperse along the seafront and into side streets.
I drive east along the edge of the bay and follow the A844 when it turns inland. That’s when I start to notice that the road seems quiet. All that other traffic went a different way.
I’m heading west into the heart of the island through trees, lochs and picturesque green hills. It's a wide A-road but it’s surprisingly quiet. Extremely quiet. In fact there simply isn’t anyone else on the road.
That’s because I am exploring Britain’s quietest A-road.
Latest traffic statistics reveal that the Isle of Bute’s A844 has the least traffic of any major A-road in the UK. On this stunning scenic loop round the island, there’s an average of around three vehicles an hour, or just 77 a day.
Bute comprises about 50 square miles of picturesque hills, woods, lochs and beaches just off the southwest coast at the Firth of Clyde. It’s two hours’ drive from Glasgow, including a calm and scenic 40-minute ferry ride surrounded by mountains and islands.
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The CalMac ferry arrives at the island’s capital, and only town, the grand old-fashioned Victorian seaside resort of Rothesay. From there, the A844 winds around the island in a spectacular circuit of about 25 miles. The top half is the ultra-quiet section – because it is by-passed by the B881 road that does the same journey in far less miles.
The lower loop of the A844 is a bit more popular because it leads to the island’s main attraction, Mount Stuart. It’s hardly the M25 but I do notice a couple of other cars.
Mount Stuart is the main reason people visit the island. It’s the stately pile of the Marquesses of Bute, one of Britain’s wealthiest families. It is occasional home of the present Marquess, the tattooed and bespectacled Jack Dumfries and his sister Lady Lola, a glamorous model and jet-set friend of Stella McCartney.
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Their father was motorsport legend Johnny Dumfries, who won the Le Mans 24-Hour race in a Tom Walkinshaw Jaguar XJR in 1988 and drove in F1 for Lotus alongside Ayrton Senna. The late Johnny must have relished tackling the ultra-quiet, super-smooth A-road passing the end of his drive.
For motorists used to England’s acne-like potmarked roads, Britain’s quietest A-road feels like our most intact road too. With so little wear and tear I don’t spot a single pothole as it swoops across Bute.
If you do fancy a pit-stop, Johnny’s old place is a neo-gothic confusion of turrets, towers and ornate red sandstone facades. Buy a £17 ticket and you’ll see the ludicrously opulent interior encrusted with carvings, paintings, stained glass and an 80ft-high ceiling dotted with crystals – to create a map of the stars in the night sky. Gardens are suitably lavish too, with miles of waterside walks among collections of exotic plants and a private arboretum of around 1,000 trees.
I prefer enjoying the empty bends of the scenic circuit of Bute. I suspect Johnny did too. I get so excited I do three circuits in one afternoon. The views make it completely worthwhile every time. It’s like Nurburgring by the seaside.
There are rewarding detours too. A narrow lane off the A844 further south takes me to the remote Garrochty peninsular. Muddy steps lead to ruins of a Celtic monastery on a wooded hilltop. Around 1,500 years ago early Christian missionary Bishop Blane became a saint after somehow bringing a dead boy back to life here. Blane also scattered the site with ‘holy earth’ from Rome. I park at the foot of the hills and clamber up to the atmospheric monastery. It’s worth the climb for its stupendous sea and mountain views.
Every few miles the A844 arrives at big deserted beaches, like Ettrick Bay with its mile of sand, beach café and views across to the mountains of the Isle of Arran.
Like most of Bute’s beaches it offers a delightful facility – a free ‘Beach Library’. This is a box of buckets, spades, rackets, balls and fishing nets provided by local fundraisers, with the sign: ‘Play, borrow, return’.
As the road rises out of Ettrick, a beam of sunshine illuminates a classic windjammer’s white sails against dark distant mountains. Seabirds dart across sparkling waves while a herd of shaggy highland cattle seem mesmerised, staring out to sea.
It is yet another sensational panorama and this time I simply can’t ignore it. I jerk to a halt in the middle of the road.
Try doing that on most coastal A-roads in southern Britain and you’d be lucky to survive. A man in a Honda Jazz wearing a hat would undoubtedly angily sound his horn. On Britain’s quietest roadtrip, there’s no danger. I jump out and take a photo on my phone, standing on the central dotted line. Anywhere else in the UK a passing stream of traffic would probably instantly take my car door with it. I suspect that on Bute’s A844 there’s never been a stream of traffic.
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Simon Heptinstall enjoys the most tranquil of Scottish road trips on the Isle of Bute.